Saturday, September 20, 2014

I sat in my long white car at an intersection not long after I returned to Florida, an aching in my heart threatening to push me into the abyss of depression again. The sun was shining down in magnificent rays all around me, the brilliance of late summer showing off her last hurrah before the Autumn equinox. All I could feel was sadness and suddenly I was absolutely not okay with that.

"Help me," I whispered into the air around me, calling out to Diety, to God as Father, Mother, All. "Just help me, please."

I've realized, in the days following, that I need a tribe. I need to give and to receive, to dance and dream, to celebrate, to sorrow, to ritual with strong and wild women. I understood this very clearly while I was visiting my home state. While reveling in the belongingness of home, I kept receiving messages to this effect, as well as messages that where I am is good, that life is progressing as it should and that if I engage with it fully things will be beautiful. I believed this in my soul because it felt like truth so very deeply. I felt the truth of it in the cells of my body, through the spiraling coils of DNA that help make me who I am. It felt right and wonderful.

I returned home to rediscover that I am deeply in love with my husband. I found an indescribable joy in my animal family and in the bond that all of us, human and non-human, share as a loving, living unit. And still, I understand that I need a tribe of women to celebrate the turn of the year with, to dance in the moonlight with, to be sisters among.

The depression arrived as it always does, suddenly and with vicious teeth. But I know it more intimately now; I understand that I'm not tending to my soul properly, and that sometimes spirit sickness is simply a way our souls communicate to us that change is necessary.

Saturday, September 6, 2014

It's hard to believe it's been nearly two weeks already. Two weeks of home. Two weeks of being someplace where I know who I am, where I feel the embrace of the land around me, where I know with definite certainty that there are people who love me. The only thing missing has been the Hubby and our animal family; they would complete the picture perfectly.

I have spent the past year, since last year's trip home, trying once again to find my footing in Florida. I've done it by putting on the face everyone wants to see, by throwing myself into the business, homeschooling, and, here and there, into creative endeavors. There have been amazing, magical, and very blessed moments. Lots of them. But there have been dark ones as well. I have wrestled long with the dark times, and I can feel them whispering to me even now, when I'm trying just to focus on having a nice day, not to ruin our last complete day here with sadness and dread. It's difficult.

We have tried hard to make it in Florida, and we have, to a certain degree, been very successful. Over the last year, life has grown more complicated. We've always had dysfunctional people around us in our business, but as we've grown, we've experienced more the harmful effects of these people with respect to our personal lives and how much we can grow the company. And these people are in our home constantly, their energy mingling with the peaceful atmosphere I strive to keep in our home. I'm tiring of the work it takes to constantly clear out the negative. I don't want our business life this close to our personal lives anymore, but I don't see a division in the near future. I'm tired of people I don't want in my personal space working in our yard, hacking at trees I want left alone, invading the one bit of private space I personally had left. There is nowhere to run to anymore to escape the madness. I can't even enjoy my morning coffee in peace anymore because people start coming to our house before the sun peeks over the horizon.

South Florida is a place of transience. I seriously doubt the integrity of most construction contractors anymore, as a large part of our current financial stresses have arisen out of the dishonesty of the contractors we've been dealing with. Everyone here seems anxious to run over everyone else so that they can have more; there is very little loyalty. I feel this in the people who work for us as well.

I didn't realize until I came back home to MA how much I've been raising walls to cope with life. Slowly, over the past two weeks, I've been able to return to myself, and to realize that I hate what Florida is turning me into. I'm not a cynical, bitter person. But I've been feeling a lot more like that over these past few, difficult months. I have to go back tomorrow. But, aside from my Hub, dog, cat, and various animals, and the homeschooling that we need to dive back into, I don't want to. Not at all.

Friday, July 11, 2014

I've been reading a lot lately about the shifting energies currently present in the Universe. To some, this might seem like a bunch of hippy dippy new agey blah blah, but to me, if feels right on. It seems lately that everyone is speaking their minds, sometimes at the expense of others' feelings. At the same time, I've been finding that more of the people I encounter, whether online or in real time, are becoming combative and downright nasty when they experience ideas contrary to their own. Never in my life have I felt more under attack for the beliefs and ideologies that I hold near and dear. And never in my life have I felt the necessity to hold fast to those beliefs and ideologies, and to remain true to them, even if it means I might get a whole basket load of shit for having them. I'm tired of people claiming to have tender ears when their mouths seem to be working just fine. Conversation is a two way proposition, and though I generally try to stay out of attack mode, sometimes words rise and release before I've had a chance to think them through and emote from a place of lesser passion.

Though I usually consider they way in which I've spoken to another person if I've allowed my temper to flare, sometimes anger is an appropriate reaction, a response to someone who richly needs to be told that they are (in my humble opinion) out of line. There are many religious schools of thought teaching us that snark is never the way to roll, but I'm beginning to believe that there are situations where a quick witted answer is just what the doctor ordered. If nothing else, it sometimes earns me a laugh later on. Of course, at times, the opposite is true. If I'm attempting to win another person to my way of thinking, for example, I find it better to attempt a discovery of common ground before entering into heated debate. The same is true if I know I'm not going to persuade the individual in question that my way is conducive to their own way of thinking, but desire some sort of mutual understanding. Being sarcastic doesn't assist the debater in these types of dialogue. Where it does sometimes feel right and good is when one person has become abusive to another person and needs to be informed, in a method leaving no room for doubt about the meaning behind one's words, that they should seriously re-consider their actions because what they are doing is not going to be tolerated. Such was the case yesterday when I told someone who thought it was okay to look down on a struggling addict/alcoholic and say wise ass things to him or her that speaking in the tone and using the verbiage he'd selected was a good way to get punched in the face. I received a few approving glances and one semi-shocked glare, but for the most part everyone else in that room seemed to agree with me, and the words a few of them spoke later on affirmed this. Maybe I've been in Florida for too long (I know I have been), but I'm fed up and tired of rude, thoughtless, back stabbing people who feel like they can be assholes with impunity. And, when dealing in recovery, the words we speak can literally mean life or death for the person hearing them.

I'm finished being a people pleaser for fear of having my heart broken over the truth. Done. I will try to be diplomatic and kind, and I'll remember the concept of grace and try to walk the path of a peaceful warrior. But I'm not buying into the b.s. anymore.